


Shit we wanna do

by pinkPenguin23



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 06:21:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10431036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkPenguin23/pseuds/pinkPenguin23
Summary: Clarke and Lexa head out to a party on campus, each hoping for a different outcome.





	

When Clarke drags me across campus on Friday night, two bedsheets draped over her shoulder and her voice giddy with alcohol—I hope that guy Finn is there, you remember him? He’s in my stats class. I showed you pictures—I plan on ditching as soon as we meet up with enough people that she forgets I’m there. 

“Here.” Clarke thrusts one of the bedsheets into my arms. We’re standing outside a frat house, strobe lights flashing from the windows and heavy bass bleeding through the walls. I glance at the symbols above the door. Alpha Something Pi. “Put it on, Lexa, it’s a toga party.”

“Right.” I knot the sheet over my shoulder and gather folds of it against my hip. I’m drunk too. It’s a warm evening, no doubt one of the last ones before the leaves start changing. The sheets smell like the back of an old closet, musty and dank and stale. “Ew, when was the last time these things saw sunlight?”

“I don’t know. Mom told me to bring a spare and stuffed them in a box for me, but I haven’t used them yet.” Her face cracks into a grin. “We smell like a thrift shop, don’t we?”

“We smell like something,” I say, and she laughs.

“Here.” She reaches for the flask pinned in the waistband of her jeans and hands it to me. “If your breath smells like vodka, that’s all anyone’s going to notice, right?”

“Interesting logic,” I say with a shrug, and she lets out another laugh. Her flushed cheeks and bright eyes glow beneath the street lamps. I take a drink and scrunch up my face. “Ack, beer is way easier to stomach than that.”

“I know, right? Maybe they’ll have PBR or something inside.” She hesitates. “You ready?”

“I smell like an old sweater and look like a gigantic, swaddled baby.” I hand the flask back to her and comb my hair through my fingers. “I’d say I’m good to go.”

“Shut up. You look hot,” she says, and my heart beats a little bit faster. It’s funny, the way we’re running around on a Friday night looking for frat parties with free beer and loud music because we’re freshman, and that’s what we’re supposed to do. I’d rather do the same thing we did Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday night after class, when we soaked gummy bears in UV Blue and smoked cheap weed and fell asleep in my bed watching Netflix, Clarke’s arm draped over my waist and our fingers locked together. 

“Thanks.”

“So—you ready?” She swings her arms back and forth.

I glance toward the frat’s front doors. There are two guys standing on the front steps, cigarette smoke clouding the air around them, and a cluster of girls stumbling up the stairs in plaid and checkered and flower-print bedsheets. “You think we do shit we’re supposed to do more often than shit we want to do?”

“What? Lexa, I’m drunk, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“Never mind.”

“You aren’t going to ditch me, are you?” She asks. “Please don’t.”

I sigh. I don’t really want to be here.

“Lexa, please. We—we should go home together, you know? Whatever happens, I want to fall asleep watching Supergirl like last night.” Her eyes flick between mine. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah.” I take her hand, and we stumble up the stairs behind the other girls, past the pair of smokers and through the front doors. 

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“So you want to be a doctor, huh?” Jasper is nodding along with the music, his glazed expression dappled with disco lights. There’s a shiny, spinning ball over our heads, and pulsing hip-hop blasting out our ears. “That’s really cool.”

“Uh, yeah.” I’m bored. I glance at my phone. There’s a text from Clarke.

Clarke: Finn’s not here.

Lexa: That sucks.

“I’m going to be an engineer,” Jasper says. He takes a drink from the Keystone in his hand and leans one shoulder against the wall. “Being a doctor’s way more badass though.”

My head hurts. I want to pop two Ibuprofen and go back to my room. “I guess.”

“You want another drink?”

“Sure.”

He heads back toward the kitchen. I watch the dance floor, or what morphed into the dance floor this evening. Couches and chairs are shoved against the wall, couples tangled around each other on the overstuffed arms and cushions. The floor is teeming with swaying drunks shouting the wrong lyrics, their arms hanging flung around their friends, couples making out, and clusters a people taking shots from Dixie cups. I glance back at my phone.

Clarke: You want to go home? I’m bored.

Lexa: Me too.

“Here.” Jasper hands me a can of Keystone and flicks the hair from his eyes. “I’m a Beta, by the way.”

I nod. “Cool.”

Clarke: I’m outside. Back patio. 

“You want to dance?” He asks.

“I think I need to step out for a second.” I scramble for something to say, the alcohol clouding my brain. “Headache. I’ll be back though, I think.”

He shrugs. “Okay.”

I step away from him. The hardwood in the hall is sticky with spilled beer and jungle juice. I slip between a group of sophomores cheering on two guys chugging bottles of Bud Light and run right into someone paces from the back door.

“Shit, sorry.” A guy with a crown of plastic leaves in his hair holds up his hands apologetically, his face lighting up when he recognizes me. “Lexa, right? You’re Clarke’s friend?”

“Yeah.” I recognize him too. Finn. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been looking for her. I texted her, but I guess her phone must’ve died.” He shrugs. “Have you seen her? Did you guys come together?”

I wrack my brain for something to say. I don’t get it. Her phone must’ve died. No, it didn’t. I remember Clarke’s bright laugh and her purple-polished nail tapping the mouse. Look at this pic, L, isn’t he adorable? She was clicking through Finn’s profile pictures. Like, damn. And he’s smart too. Got 100% on the first pop quiz in stats class. Maybe she’s too drunk to realize he texted her. “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe she’s outside—you want to come with me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The heavy wooden door shuts behind us when we step onto the back patio. Cracked stones spotted black with cigarette burns scrape beneath our feet. I spot Clarke right away. She’s sitting on top of a splintered picnic table, her sheet waddled up next to her and a Solo cup pinned between her knees. She looks up and smiles. “Lexa, hey—oh, wow, hey, Finn.”

“I thought she might know where you were,” Finn says. Clarke smiles. I stare at the bedsheets falling around my ankles and the shoe print stamped across one of the corners. I remember Jasper stepping on it and toppling straight into me. Shit, sorry, I’m drunk. Oh, hey. What’s your name? I’m Jasper.

“Lexa?” Clarke says my name.

“Yeah?”

“I—I think I need to throw up.”

Finn’s eyebrows creep into his mass of dark hair. “How much did you drink?”

“I don’t know.” 

“No one’s going to notice if you hurl out here,” he says. “Pretty sure there’s a puddle of puke behind that bush.” He points to one end of the patio. 

“I need to go home.” 

“I’ll walk you,” Finn offers, but Clarke waves him off.

“You aren’t going to find me cute anymore if you come with us.”

He laughs. “It’s not a big deal. My roommate passed out in his puke last night.”

“I’ll walk her,” I say. I hold out my arm, and Clarke grips my elbow with both hands. She steps onto the ground and stumbles forward. 

I help her stand up a little straighter. “You are hammered.”

“I know,” she says, and shuts her eyes.

“Finn! Come inside, man, we’re playing beer pong.” Someone is waving to him from the open doorway. 

“Yeah, okay!” He shouts back. He hesitates, glancing between us and his friends.

“We’re good,” I tell him. Clarke coughs and spits onto the stones between her feet. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you guys too,” he says, and he leaves.

*

We side-step our way across the lawn, away from the cluster of frat houses toward our dorm. The music dies away until the only audible sound is our flip-flops slapping the sidewalk. We’re making our way across campus, traipsing through a maze of deserted academic buildings, student sculptures, and big oak trees. Clarke releases her grip on my arm and stands up straighter. She tugs the elastic band from her hair and rakes her hands through it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t shake your head back and forth like that,” I say. The moon is glowing from behind a layer of haze.

“I’m fine, Lexa.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not really.”

I pause, and when I look at her, she bursts out laughing.

“Shit, Lexa, I’m basically sober!” She shoves me into the grass, her cackle piercing the quiet night. Her laugh’s infectious, and I feel my expression splitting into a smile. I kick off my sandals and tug her off the sidewalk with me.

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious, oh, my God, you couldn’t tell?” She laughs harder. I do too. She tosses her flip-flops toward mine and wiggles her toes in her grass. “Damn, this feels good.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Finn texted you,” I say. “He was looking for you all night.”

“Yeah, so?” 

I blink at her. “He’s only your favorite subject every, Clarke. You talk about him all the time.”

“Yeah.” She widens her stance and raises her arms. “Move. I’m going to do a cartwheel.”

We’re standing on the lawn in front of the science building. “A cartwheel?”

“Yup.” 

I step out of the way, and she folds her body and kicks her feet out from under her. Her legs draw awkward half-circles in the air, and then she tumbles onto the ground. “Okay.” She spreads out in the grass, her laugh bubbling up again. “Maybe I’m not totally sober.”

“Or maybe you just suck at cartwheels.”

“Shut up.” She waves her hand in the air. “Sit down. Look.” She points up at the sky.

“What?” I stretch out next to her. 

“Helicopter. At least I think that’s what it is.” 

Blinking red lights make their way across the sky. I grin. “Cloudy-ass night, so we’re going to lie here admiring the helicopter, huh?”

She laughs. “Guess so.”

I fold one arm behind my head. She takes my other hand and slips her fingers between mine. We stay like that, quiet, both staring up at the twinkling red lights.

“Took me about thirty-seconds after we got there to realize what you meant,” she says.

“What?”

“When you said we don’t do what we want often enough.”

“I didn’t really say that.”

“Shut up, yeah, you did,” she says, her gaze drifting toward me. “Right?”

“You got the gist,” I say with a grin, and she props herself up on one elbow and kisses me. She freezes, her dark eyes blinking back at me and horror flooding her expression. 

“God, if I’m misreading this, I might crawl into a dark cave and never come out.”

I laugh and brush the hair from her forehead.

“Lexa.”

“You aren’t,” I say, and I kiss her back.

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt with this fanfic, let me know what you think. A longer piece might be in the works. : )


End file.
